Hunter's Revenge
Page 8
Hunter explained that they had reason to believe Lenny The Lizard Pratt and Max Merkel were guests at the hotel.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly breach the confidentiality of our guests, you understand, gentlemen.”
“Of course, I understand. Myerscough, arrest him for perverting the course of justice.”
Tim made to grab the man’s arm, but he moved it quickly.
“Now really, I don’t think this is necessary,” he objected.
“No, it’s not, if you choose to assist us. I only want to know if these two men are registered here, and when they arrived. Alternatively, I can station officers outside your premises until I know one way or the other. Do you understand?” Hunter spat the last word.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” The little man nodded nervously. He pulled up a screen on his computer, wrote down the information and handed it to Hunter.
“Thank you. Also, I believe you have a new General Manager since the hotel changed hands, Mr Heinrich Reinbold?”
“Yes, yes, Mr Reinbold.”
“Well. Is he here?” Hunter asked sharply.
“Not at the moment; he is in Glasgow this morning.”
“No problem, thank you again,” Hunter said.
The detectives turned on their heels and left the premises as swiftly as they had entered.
“You couldn’t arrest him for that, Sir?”
“No, all nonsense. Just my little joke,” Hunter smiled.
“I didn’t see Mr Brownlee laughing, Sir.”
“People watch too many cop programmes where everything happens in an hour. You drive.”
Tim winced as he caught the keys.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked.
“Pulled muscles. I went for a run this morning.”
“You have pulled muscles, I got punched. Good Lord, who would want to join the boys in blue? Anyway, let's get back to the ranch.”
Tim shrugged. They got into the car and drove back to the station.
***
Hunter was greeted in his office by his phone ringing.
“DI Wilson.” His face grew sombre as he listened quietly to the voice at the other end of the line. “Understood.” He hung up the receiver and went to find Mackay.
“Sir, I just had a call from the Forensics boys. They have some interesting news for us.”
“Oh, good. Have a seat, Hunter. Tea?” Hunter accepted, more for the politics than out of a desire to drink tea with a senior officer.
“That package Jane Renwick spotted in the burnt-out car held high-grade cocaine from Peru.”
“Peru? That’s different.”
“The drug squad knew a new source of coke was making its way into the country, but they didn’t know the route. It seems we came across it accidentally. The route seems to be coming into Europe and across the Channel through the Tunnel.”
“Do they know who’s behind it?”
Hunter shook his head. “But we do know The Lizard is in the city, ostensibly to visit his sick mother.”
“Aye right!” Mackay said sarcastically. “Could he be running the drug operation in Edinburgh for Mansoor while he’s in prison?”
“I don’t know, Sir. I wasn’t aware they were that close. I do know The Lizard is bad news wherever he is, and Tim said something about him laying claim to the old blue car that went missing from Thomson’s Top Cars. He had Brian Squires break Jamie Thomson’s arm when he learned the car wasn’t in the showroom. We know now that the burnt-out car found near the airport had cocaine in the boot. We also know both cars are old Volvos, we don’t know, yet, if they are one and the same vehicle. I am having Colin and Nadia liaise with Jane on registration numbers.”
“It’s true, there is more than one old Volvo in the world; those cars are well-made and last forever. The one Jane spotted didn’t even burn all the way through when it was set alight. But it is a hell of a coincidence that we find a burnt-out blue Volvo with cocaine in the boot, and The Lizard is laying claim to an old blue Volvo that has gone missing.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences, Sir”
“Neither do I, Hunter. Neither do I.”
“We do know The Lizard is staying at The Bruce Hotel in Belford Road. Jane and Rachael saw him talking to an art dealer from Germany, Max Merkel.”
“Never heard of him.”
“No, me neither, but Tim Myerscough has. He identified him from a photo Jane and Rachael took while they were in the hotel sorting out their arrangements.”
“What a lucky break they saw The Lizard.”
“I always tell them, Sir, Never off duty – and some of them listen,” Hunter smiled.
“Well said.”
“Apparently this Merkel guy is a big deal on the art circuit. And his father was in the Stasi.”
“East German security in the old days?”
“Yep. Meanwhile, Gillian found the evidence that George was accused of murdering a man called Hans Merkel.”
“And now George is dead, while a Max Merkel and The Lizard stay in an Edinburgh hotel. I really don’t like this.”
“In addition to that, the General Manager of the hotel chain has the same name as George’s nephew: Heinrich Reinbold.”
“Get to the bottom of this, Hunter. Do it quickly. The sooner we have a national force with a united Major Incident Team, the better.”
“If you say so, Sir.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hunter went to find Colin and Nadia. He found them in the canteen, eating lunch and looking at photos of each other’s children. Suddenly, Hunter realised that he was hungry too. It was nearing the end of time for lunch service, but he joined the queue behind Mel and picked up a plate of dried-out fish and chips. It would fill a hole. The canteen was still busy, so Hunter walked over with Mel to join Colin and Nadia.
“That looks vile, Boss!” Mel grinned.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Hunter agreed. “I know you have been putting in the hours over George Reinbold, and I appreciate it. Colin, Nadia, have you got the route sorted for the Volvo yet?”
“I think so. We can’t trace on areas where there are no cameras, but we can pick it up again when there are. And it is the same one that Jane and Rachael found burnt out at the airport.” Colin chewed the last bite of a banana that served as pudding.
“I want a timeline for the journey that vehicle took. As much information as you can give me, especially the registration number and the identity of the driver.”
“Sure.” Nadia took out her notebook.
“Anything else?” Colin said. “I’m feeling there’s something we haven’t been told yet.”
“I need you to check the date of entry to this country by Lenny The Lizard Pratt, Heinrich Reinbold and Max Merkel. I want method of entry too, if you can get it.”
“What about me, Boss?” Mel asked.
“Mel, I want all the contacts and associates for those three men. I want to know as much about them as you can find. Add Brian Squires to your list. I can make Bear and Rachael available to help you, if you need them. You can each take one of these characters.”
“That would be five of us and four people to investigate, how does that add up?” Mel asked.
“You’re resourceful, you’ll manage. In the meantime, I’m off to Saughton with Myerscough,” Hunter said, consigning the remains of his lunch to the bin.
***
“I want to interview Ian Thomson,” Hunter said to Tim as they waited for Ian to be brought to the private consultation room. “I need to find out what he knows about The Lizard, and why that man is really in the city.”
“You mean you want to find out what he knows, that he’s prepared to tell us.”
“Yes, but I don’t think there’s much love lost since Ian’s wife ran into the arms of The Lizard and took off to Spain with him.”
“No, probably not,” Tim agreed.
“And we are protecting his son and nephew from the bad guys.”
“We are, Boss. Very good of us!�
�� Tim smiled.
“We’ll make time for you to meet with your father while we’re here.”
As Ian Thomson entered the room, Hunter indicated to the prison officer that he should wait outside the door. He noticed how lean Ian Thomson had become. His muscular frame was clear underneath his ill-fitting prison clothes. He watched as Thomson sat down and stared across the table.
“This is a fine mess,” he said shortly.
“What’s that, Ian?” Hunter asked.
“Me in here, his dad” (he nodded towards Tim) “along the block and .Mansoor in solitary. Just as well The Lizard’s back in town, or you’d have nobody to keep you busy. All the scum would be in here with me.”
“Wish it were that easy,” Hunter said.
“Well, what do you want with me? It’s not the pleasure of me company, although thanks for looking out for Jamie and Frankie. They’re a pair of clueless buggers.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that score,” Tim replied. “But talking of clueless buggers, thanks for keeping an eye on my dad too.”
Ian Thomson winked at Tim and turned his attention to Hunter.
“How do you know The Lizard’s in town anyway?” Hunter asked.
“Word gets about,” Ian Thomson said flatly.
“Aye, but you don’t,” said Tim.
“Arjun Mansoor said.”
“I thought he was in solitary?” Hunter asked.
“He is now. The Lizard’s stooge brought him a snowball and he was sharing it about like it was chocolate. Got caught. Got searched. Got banged up in solitary. Apparently it’s brilliant stuff, though, from Peru.”
“So I’ve heard. Did you try it?”
“You know me better than that, DI Wilson,” Ian Thomson said firmly. “I don’t have any truck with drugs. It’s a mug’s game – only brings misery to the users. You’ve got to be well up that food chain to make any money out of it.”
“Who brought it in to the country?” Hunter asked
“Do I look like a grass to you? Piss off!”
“Who brought it in to the prison?”
“Use your loaf, Inspector. Mansoor was dealing in here, and he knew that The Lizard was back in Edinburgh, so it must have been a contact of The Lizard’s who came to see Mansoor. But he never told me who.”
“You don’t like The Lizard, do you, Ian?” Hunter asked.
“Would you have a lot of time for the arsehole who shagged your wife as soon as you were in the big house?”
“No.”
“They live in Spain most of the time now. She takes no interest in our Jamie. Fucking useless mam she is. But she must have burned her way through a lot of The Lizard's cash, because I’ve heard he’s doing business over here right now. She’s not a cheap date, my Janice. I could have told him that, but he never asked.”
“Any idea about the kind of job The Lizard might have taken on here?”
“Well, it’ll have to pay well and he won’t need to be here long. He’ll want to get back to sun, sangria and sex with my bloody Mrs, won’t he?”
“Does The Lizard shoot?” Tim asked.
“Hedoes, but he’s not the best marksman in the world. He's fine at close range, I suppose. Not squeamish. No conscience. You’ve met the type: scum that’ll do anything to make a few bucks. Like Arjun Mansoor.”
“Time’s up, Sir,” the guard said to Hunter.
“Always lovely to chat, gents, but if I was you I’d check the visiting book and the log of Mansoor's official phone calls.”
Hunter asked the guard to bring Sir Peter Myerscough through to see Tim. Then Hunter went off to find somebody who could show him the visitors’ book and Arjun Mansoor’s phone transcript, while Tim spent a little private time with his dad.
Chapter Seventeen
Tim was glad to be having dinner with Jane and Rachael this evening. Instead of having a hen-do they were giving a pre-wedding supper for those helping with their big day. He was tired of dining alone in his father’s large Morningside home.
Rachael had excluded her parents from the evening on the grounds that they would be too embarrassing, and Rosie, the little flower-girl, was represented by her parents, Colin and Maggie.
Tim arrived with Bear and Mel, to find Sarah, Colin and Maggie already chatting in the living room. Tim had never met Sarah before, but she bore a striking resemblance to Rachael, so there was no doubting her identity. Nevertheless, she approached him to introduce herself.
“I’m a detective, I worked out who you are,” he smiled.
“As I’m the only person in the room you don’t know,” she nodded, “that doesn’t make it such brilliant detection. But perhaps I could get you a drink, anyway?”
“Beer, please. Budweiser if they have it.”
“I think you’re on safe ground. I’ll be right back.”
Tim had the nagging feeling Sarah had been told he was single and to make a point of chatting to him. He spotted the two Samuel Peploe paintings he had given to Jane and Rachael as engagement presents. He knew the paintings meant more to the girls than they had ever done to him. He followed Sarah into the kitchen to claim his beer.
“Tim!” Colin called over.
Tim raised his bottle in acknowledgement and wandered over to talk to Colin and Maggie.
“I hear you are expecting more tiny footsteps, congratulations, Maggie. And you of course, Colin.”
***
The meal was almost finished. Bear was just polishing off the lump of blue Stilton while Rachael picked at the grapes. Jane brought through another cafetière of coffee.
“The boss’s real name is what, Tim?” Bear laughed.
“Christian Cyril Hunter Wilson. He told me himself.” Tim grinned. “He swore me to secrecy, though.”
”Like that was ever going to work!” Bear grinned.
“Christian Cyril. I knew his dad was a minister, but that’s harsh!” Rachael smiled.
“Please let me call him Cyril, just once!” Mel joked.
“Why would you do that? Don’t you like life?” Bear nudged her.
“Is he coming to the wedding, Jane?” Tim asked.
“Yes. With Meera, apparently.”
“Our hotel’s been taken over. I noticed the General Manager has the same name as George’s nephew. And Mel has tracked down that his nephew works for this group.” Rachael commented.
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Tim said.
“No, chances are it’s that same man.” Rachael said. “It’s nice to feel there is a link back to George, although he doesn’t have anything to do with us. He’s too high up the food chain. As General Manager, I suppose he’s in charge of all the Scottish hotels.”
Suddenly, the room fell quiet and the mood became sombre.
“We are going to miss George so much on our big day,” Jane said sadly. “Do you know he gave us a first edition of Ian Fleming’s Diamonds are Forever as a wedding gift? Lord knows what it cost him, and now he’s gone, I feel so guilty.”
“You know the last thing George would want is to upset you,” Mel said.
“I know, but we don’t seem to be making any progress on finding out who murdered George or why he was killed,” Jane said.
“Actually, I think the boss may be making some progress,” Tim said. “He and I went to speak to Ian Thomson yesterday. Thomson wouldn’t say much, but he did know that The Lizard is here, and seemed to think that he’s on a job.”
“What kind of job?” Bear asked.
“Don’t know, and Ian Thomson didn’t say, even if he knew. But he hinted that The Lizard is available for hire and is pretty unscrupulous.”
“We all know that,” Jane said.
“We also know that George was accused of killing Hans Merkel – whose son Max is in the city talking to The Lizard.” Rachael emptied the remains of a bottle of red wine into her glass.
“Shall I open another of these?” Jane asked, holding up the empty bottle.
“Why not? Maggie can’t drink a
nd is driving Colin home, and Tim’s butler is taking us home as well as Tim!” Mel smiled.
“You have a butler?” Sarah asked Tim in an incredulous tone of voice.
“Long story. My father’s staff really. I just live in his house for the time being. Anyway, I can’t see Max Merkel getting involved in anything dubious. He is a very highly-regarded art dealer. My father knows him personally.”
“Not much of a recommendation right now, Tim,” Bear said.
Tim grinned. “Careful, Bear, or you’ll be walking home.”
***
“Clouseau! Come to join us for a pint, and are you going to manage to save this darts match for us?” Tom from the darts team called to Hunter as he walked into The Persevere Bar.
It was the first time Hunter had been there since he had spent the night at Meera’s. He wondered if his friends would notice any difference in him.
“Thanks, Tom,” he said, accepting his drink. “Is the whole team here already?”
“Are we never not all here by the time you arrive? I have never known a darts player play more final legs than you! On you go, then.” Tom grinned at Hunter. “And stop smiling: this is a serious business.”
It was almost impossible to stop smiling. Hunter was so happy that things with Meera were getting on track at last. Then he thought about George. He must have had such a sad, scared life: no family here, never married, just his job and his books for company. What a lonely life, what a dreadful death. What strange entries in Arjun Mansoor’s prison visiting records.
“Hunter, focus!” Tom shouted.
Hunter pushed his thoughts aside to concentrate on winning the match for the team.
Chapter Eighteen
Hunter and Tim arrived at The Bruce Hotel, accompanied by two uniformed officers, in time for breakfast. The warmth of the hotel dining room combined with smells of bacon, coffee, disinfectant and furniture polish to make a distinctive smell. They spotted The Lizard alone at a table with a croissant and a copy of the Financial Times. He was smartly dressed in a grey pin-stripe suit and tie. They strode towards him.
“Didn’t know you could read, Lizard,” Hunter commented as he pulled out a chair beside him.